


(you take) the breath out of my lungs

by Professor_Lollipop



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, ambiguous setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 16:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16267652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Professor_Lollipop/pseuds/Professor_Lollipop
Summary: Ed has this way of rendering Roy speechless in the most unexpected ways.





	(you take) the breath out of my lungs

**Author's Note:**

> i might have been listening to _speechless_ by dan + shay on repeat while writing this. i'm not sorry.

The clock ticks steadily in the foyer, and Roy taps his foot along with it. With a sigh, he checks his watch and then rolls his head towards the stairs. “Sometime this century, if you would, Fullmetal!” 

“Fuck off!” comes Ed’s voice. “I’m almost done!” 

“You said that five minutes ago,” Roy calls up. At this point, he feels Ed’s taking his time just to spite him. It wouldn’t be the first time. He pinches the bridge of his nose in a put-upon manner. “When I said fashionably late, I didn’t mean a full half an hour late. I do have an image to—” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ed says, voice now closer—the top of the stairs, instead of from further in the guest room. “I’m ready.” 

Roy turns on his heel, another biting remark on his tongue, and he feels it dry up and evaporate as he looks up at Edward. His breath leaves him in a rush, and he feels lightheaded as he takes in the way the suit—special ordered and tailored to fit, definitely more high end than his usual fare—hugs each of his curves and angles, refining him from rough ore to a fine gem. His hair, usually tied up behind his head, falls in a soft, loosely braided waterfall of gold over his shoulder, a ribbon of red silk to match his dress shirt tied at the end. 

Standing at the top of the stairs, poised and graceful, the picture Edward makes steals Roy’s breath, and he can’t seem to find any words as Ed descends towards him. He stares, and  _stares,_ and Ed finally pauses, taking in his expression. His own expression twists, a sneer curling his lips to hide the uncertainty filling his golden eyes, and he looks down at himself before back at Roy. 

“What?” he snaps, on the defensive. His shoulders square, and he meets Roy’s gaze head on. “What the fuck are you looking at?” 

“I—” Roy clears his throat with a cough, straightening his shoulders. His face is warm and he tugs nervously at his collar. Good lord, but Ed has always been attractive, this shouldn’t be anything  _new—_ “Just. You—”  _You look beautiful. You’re stunning, and you’ve rendered me completely speechless._  “You clean up well, Fullmetal.” 

Ed’s brow furrows, his mouth turning down and pinching, and Roy wants to set himself on fire. It’s too bad he’d changed his usual gloves for the ones he has on now, because he doesn’t have his array on him now, and therefore cannot put himself out of this miserable embarrassment. 

 _You’re better than this, Mustang,_ he chastises himself. His tongue is still in knots and heavy in his mouth, and the look Ed gives him has a part of him curling up on the inside. 

“Whatever,” Ed huffs, rolling his eyes and looking away. There’s a beautiful flush to his cheeks, but Roy thinks it’s probably less out of pleased embarrassment and more anger at Roy’s supposed mocking. “Let’s go.” 

With a resigned sigh, Roy does as bid and follows him out. 

 

The hour drags on, and Roy finally finds himself with a moment of peace. The champagne in his glass is flat, and he grimaces at it as he takes a sip. All the opulence of the party, and they couldn’t even get the good stuff. 

He avoids the twirling bodies of the dancers and makes his way around the outskirts. He scans the crowd for a golden head of hair, frowning when he can’t find it, only to pull up short when Ed materializes at his side as if he can read Roy’s mind. 

“This party sucks,” Ed says, blunt as ever. He steals Roy’s champagne glass and downs it in one gulp, making a face as he hands it off to a passing waiter. “Ugh. Shit’s nasty. How does anybody drink it?” 

“Usually like that,” Roy says, pleased when it gets a snort from Ed. The snippy mood from earlier is gone, and Roy hopes it stays that way. “I take it you’re enjoying yourself?” 

“Oh, absolutely.” Ed’s voice drips sarcasm. He crosses his arms, his fingers absently playing with the end of his braid. “Nothin’ like trying to breathe in a room full of perfume and avoid random hands brushing against your ass.” 

Roy lets his eyes drop to said ass, and a smirk curls his lips. “It is a very nice ass, you must admit.” 

Ed rolls his eyes and makes a show of gagging, but he doesn’t hit Roy, and he doesn’t walk away, so Roy counts it as a win. If anything, the flush on his cheeks and the heated, playful glint in his eyes as he looks at Roy spurs Roy on. The music fades as it gets ready to change, and Roy takes his chance.

He turns to Ed, holding out a hand, the other behind his back as he half bows. He smiles up at the raised eyebrow Ed gives him. “Can I have this dance?” 

Ed regards the hand with an unreadable expression, then drops his arms. His fingers slide between Roy’s, and he matches Roy’s smile with one of his own. “Just don’t blame me when I step on your foot.” 

They make their way to the floor, falling into a free space within the rest of the dancing guests, and Roy pulls Ed close as they begin to move with the music. They draw stares and whispers, the weight of them pressing against Roy’s back, but he ignores them, too focused on the man in his arms. 

For having one automail foot, Ed moves gracefully with him, and not once does he step on Roy’s foot. A smirk stays curled on his lips, and Roy finds his gaze drawn to it more and more. The urge to kiss it off Ed’s face grows strong within him, and he makes himself look back at Ed’s eyes. 

A mistake, it turns out, as Ed is looking at him with knowing in those eyes of his, and he presses closer to Roy on the next turn. He tilts his head, hair falling around his face, and Roy wants to brush it away with a caress. 

“So are we gonna continue to pretend we don’t feel anything,” Ed says, casual as anything, “or are you gonna kiss me like we both want?” 

Roy opens his mouth to say—he’s not sure, to be honest, but it doesn’t matter because Ed’s mouth is covering his, swallowing whatever he might have said, and Roy feels it’s a much better use of his energy to simply melt into him and let himself be kissed. 

**Author's Note:**

> twitter @duscaenorange


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